Where the Wind Whispers
by blueangel994
Summary: This is just another one of my versions of the sixth year because I started it before HPatHBP came out, so I just wanted to share it with you. Harry's summer starts out with an unpleasant surprise in the form of Snape...but suddenly he wonders if it's re
1. Chapter 1: Snape's Smile

**A/N:** Hello, welcome to my eigth fan fiction. If you are not familiar with me or my fiction stories, I'd like to say a few things. I appreciate constructive criticism in the reviews and ideas are welcome, I will credit you if I use an idea you've approached me with. If I don't, please let me know because it was probably a mistake. Enjoy!

**Snape's Smile**

A scrawny, bespectacled teenage boy with an odd scar on his forehead that looked like a lightning bolt stared at his ceiling as he heard Dudley complaining downstairs in the kitchen.

_Probably complaining that there's not enough food in the refrigerator,_ he thought, sighing.

Dudley had gotten so enormous over the school year that he had barely recognized him when he met his aunt and uncle at the train station. The doctor had told Vernon and Petunia that if Dudley didn't lose weight he was in serious danger of a heart attack, which Harry wished would have been the case earlier in life.

"MUM THERE'S NO CREAM CHEESE! WHERE'D IT ALL GO?" he heard Dudley storm.

"Now now, popkins," he heard his aunt nervously answer, "You ate it all up yesterday, remember?"

"BUT I WANT CREAM CHEESE ON MY BAGEL!" he yelled.

"Well, how about some margarine? Wouldn't that be better?"

He turned around in his bed, trying to drown out their voices. He hadn't left his bed except to shower since he had gotten to his aunt and uncle's house three days ago. The only two motivations that could actually get him out of his bed was to stay clean and to return to his real home; Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You see, Harry Potter wasn't any ordinary person. On his eleventh birthday he had found out that he was a wizard. And so for the past five years Harry had been boarding the Hogwarts Express at King's Cross station every September to get to Hogwarts.

Hedwig's wings banged against his cage, demanding that she be let out.

"No, Hedwig," Harry muttered, glad he wasn't getting in trouble for this. Two years ago would have been a different story. But now that Mad-eye had threatened his aunt and uncle, he rarely got into trouble for anything.

Harry reluctantly got up and let Hedwig out anyway, "There, you happy?" he tiredly asked.

Hedwig happily flew to Harry's desk chair.

"Yeah, I suppose so," he said as if the owl had asked a question.

He sat down in the chair and pulled a piece of parchment and a quill toward him.

"Dear Mad-eye," he started, not sure what to write, "I'm doing well at my aunt and uncle's house. They aren't mistreating me; in fact I don't see them very often. Aunt Petunia gives me fair amounts of food whenever I do go down to eat, which isn't very often, and Uncle Vernon lets me do my homework whenever I want. So you don't have to worry about me."

Harry thought a moment, wondering if he should mention his scar.

_No,_ he thought, _they won't think it's very significant._

"With best wishes, Harry Potter," he finished off, rolled it up and tied it.

"Here," he told Hedwig, tying it to her leg, "Go find Mad-eye and come back as soon as possible," he said as she lifted off of the chair and flew out the window.

Suddenly, with Hedwig gone, Harry felt lonelier than ever. He had always counted on Hedwig to be there, but when she was gone…

Harry sat on his bed with a sigh as his aunt called, "Supper's ready, Harry!", but he didn't budge. He didn't want to eat. Not right now even though his stomach was groaning with hunger. Why should he deserve to eat when he was the one that killed his godfather?

Suddenly what looked like a tennis-ball with wings flew in through his window and collided with his door.

"What the…" Harry quietly began as he looked at the object, "Pig!" he quietly exclaimed, his heart beating quicker. He ran over to the collapsed owl and picked it up, untying the letter from Ron's owl's leg and it flew around the room.

He hurried over to his desk and flattened the letter out so he could read it.

"Harry, how are you? Things here are normal, I guess. Percy is being a jerk as usual, even though Fudge has confessed to everything he didn't think was true. Mum and dad are getting along alright. Fudge gave him a raise and mum was really happy. Ginny's alright. I think she's taken up with you again, Harry, so watch it when you come over next week…"

Harry's heart stopped, _I'm going over to the Burrow next week?_ he asked himself. He hadn't known about this. Maybe that was why his aunt and uncle had been so courteous to him…

He continued reading, "Bill and Charlie are staying the summer, so we'll have a great time practicing Quidditch for next year. Anyway, have a great week, see you soon. Ronald Weasly."

Harry quickly turned the piece of parchment over and scribbled his reply; "I'm going to your house next week? It would be nice if someone could inform me of these things! Alright, I suppose we'll have fun practicing Quidditch, but I'll have to borrow somebody's broom, remember Umbridge took mine. Anyway, see you soon."

He rolled it up and tied it to Pig's leg, "Get this to Ron quick," he told it and it flew out of the window like a bullet.

Harry laid back on his bed feeling a bit better than he had moment before. If only he could see Sirius again, or talk to him in the least…

Not seconds later he drifted off to sleep, thinking only of his deceased godfather.

_Harry was now running down the corridor in the Ministry of Magic. He opened the door to the Department of Mysteries, no problem. But this time he didn't go into the room with the orbs; he instead went into the room with the archway. He looked around and no one was there. Only the fluttering vale in which Sirius had passed through not even a week ago. He slowly descended the steps into the bottom of the room, then climbed the steps up to the archway and examined it. He first looked at the front of it, then behind it, half expecting Sirius to be there._

"_Where are you?" Harry whispered. He touched the vale, but then quickly drew back. What if it took him as well?_

"_I wouldn't care," he muttered, answering his own question. He touched it again, feeling its cool, metallic material. He slowly lifted the vale so he could see the contents of the archway. Harry looked inside and saw two red, snake-like eyes…_

Harry yelled out in fear and felt himself hit the ground. He grabbed his pulsing scar as he felt tears of pain well up in his eyes.

His scar gave another horrible stab of pain and Harry tightly closed his eyes, whispering, "No no no."

_Hermione was right,_ he realized, _I should've kept on with the Occlumency lessons._

Harry now didn't care if Snape wanted to kill him, as long as it stopped the pain in his scar.

"Harry Potter!" he heard his uncle yell.

"What now?" he asked, turning around and standing up as his uncle banged the door open.

"You will come down here and eat your supper!" he yelled, turning red in the face.

"I'm not hungry," he muttered, turning toward the window.

"I will not be taken as a fool!"

"What?" asked Harry, turning back toward his uncle, utterly confused.

Vernon gave an ugly smile, "Oh, I know what you're up to, oh yes! You are going to starve your self so…so…those…_things_ can come here and take you away!" he spit, pieces of his dinner flying toward Harry.

Harry rolled his eyes and looked out his window, "I'm going away next week anyway."

"_WHAT_!" his uncle loudly asked.

"I'm going to Ron's house until the school year starts," Harry calmly explained.

"You'll do no such thing!" his uncle threatened, spitting when he said "thing".

"Oh yes I will," Harry said, looking coolly at his uncle, "And if you try to stop me Mad-eye will know."

"So that's his name, is it?" Vernon stormed.

"Well, not _really_," Harry sarcastically responded, "His real name is Alastor Moody, but Mad-eye is his nick-name because he lost his eye, but he's got a new one that can see through anything."

"Really?" his uncle breathed, a hint of fear in his voice.

"Yep."

"And how will…_Ron_ pick you up?" he demanded.

"I don't know. I don't suppose floo again because last time…just didn't work," Harry explained even though he didn't need to. He knew his uncle could remember as well as he could what had happened last time the Weasly's had tried to pick him up for the Quidditch finals.

"_Those_ are the people?" his uncle asked, infuriated.

"Yeah, that's them," said Harry in an off-hand voice.

Uncle Vernon left in a huff and Harry sighed.

_Just a few more days,_ he reminded himself. Then he could be with Ron, and presumably Hermione.

Harry laid on his bed again and was about to drift off to a nice, peaceful sleep, of which he had not gotten for several weeks when…

" I WILL HAVE NO MORE HOCUS-POKUS!"

Harry's eyes snapped open. Clearly some one from the magical world had just entered the house. Could Ron have come to pick him up early?

"I am here to…" began a greasy voice.

"POTTER GET DOWN HERE RIGHT THIS INSTANT!" his uncle stormed.

_No, not here,_ Harry inwardly groaned, slowly closing his eyes. Why would Snape, of all people, be _here_?

Harry took a large breath before he stood up and headed down the stairs where he found Snape standing in the open door way and Uncle Vernon facing him, scarlet-faced.

"Yes, uncle Vernon?" Harry lightly asked, not looking at Snape.

_Maybe if I don't see him he'll disappear,_ Harry ludicrously told himself.

"WHAT IS _HE_ DOING _HERE_?" he rounded on Harry.

Harry looked at Snape who was wearing a bored expression.

"I don't know," Harry honestly replied.

"DON'T GIVE ME THAT, BOY! HE'S ONE OF YOU! YOU KNOW PERFECTLY WELL WHY HE'S HERE!"

"Oh really?" Harry asked him, looking at the wall opposite which was covered with pictures of Dudley, "Would you care to inform me?" he asked, making Vernon sputter everywhere.

"If I may intrude," Snape coolly cut in.

"NO YOU MAY NOT!" Harry's uncle yelled at him. Snape, never having been yelled at by an adult during his own adult years, stared at Vernon and continued.

"Harry should have received an owl explaining when and why I was to arrive here," he said, looking at Harry.

Harry glared at him, "I haven't received any owls except from Ron," he replied.

"I highly doubt…" Snape began, glaring back.

Harry interrupted, "It's the truth, want to look into my mind for proof?" he shot at him.

"You haven't gotten Dumbledore's owl?" he asked as if Harry hadn't said anything.

Uncle Vernon was watching them like a tennis match, mouth wide open.

"No, I haven't. Not unless it's arrived since I've come down here."

"I suggest you go look, Potter," hissed Snape.

Uncle Vernon gave Snape a sort of gratified expression as Harry went up to check his room.

Sure enough, a proud looking owl had dropped a letter on Harry's bed and was now drinking water out of Hedwig's cage.

"Harry, I have asked Professor Snape to continue giving you Occlumency lessons. He is to arrive at your house precisely at six o clock in the evening on July the fourth, and will leave exactly at six o clock in the evening on July the ninth. That will give you six days to practice Occlumency, and they will continue once you get to the Burrow. I have pulled some strings and jumped through some loops to make sure you are not charged for underage sorcery. Good luck, Harry. Albus Dumbledore."

"Six days?" Harry repeated to himself, astounded. Harry didn't think he'd be able to live that long if Snape was staying at his aunt and uncle's house. The last thing he wanted on this earth was to be with Petunia, Vernon, Dudley _and_ Snape all at once.

"This is a _NIGHT_mare!" he yelled, then lumbered down the stairs.

"I found it, professor," he told Snape once he had joined them in the kitchen. Harry's uncle was sitting across the table from Snape, glaring at him. This reminded Harry, with a pang of guilt, of the time during Christmas when he found that he had to take Occlumency with Snape in the first place, only it was in Sirius kitchen with Sirius, not Vernon Dursley.

"Oh, he's your professor, Harry?" Vernon asked, "Does he teach you how to pull rabbits out of hats, then?" he sarcastically asked, not taking his eyes off of Snape.

"I suggest that you keep your filthy mouth shut or I'll be pulling rabbits out of places you didn't even knew existed," Harry threatened, feeling himself tense up and gripping his wand which was in his pocket.

"Oh ho!" Vernon shouted, "Listen to this, Petunia! He's learned how to pull rabbits out of hats!"

Snape looked a bit infuriated, "I am to stay for six days to teach Potter Occlumency…" he began, then stopped at the expression on Vernon's face.

"Six…six days?" he breathed.

"Yes, six days…"

"What's Occ…occlumi-thingy?" he asked.

Harry saw Snape roll his eyes, "I give lessons to teach Potter how to shield his mind from the Dark Lord…" he quickly began.

"You people can read minds, then?"

Snape's eyes widened at this comment, "You can't simply _read_ minds, Mr. Potter, you must master an art called Legimacy."

_BIG mistake,_ Harry thought, watching his uncle's face grow even redder by the second.

"MY NAME IS NOT POTTER!" Vernon spit, outraged.

"I am quite sorry, sir," said Snape, catching Harry by surprise. Harry had never heard Snape call anyone "sir" much less apologize to anybody.

"YOU ARE NOT WELCOME UNDER THIS ROOF! LEAVE NOW BEFORE I CALL THE BOBBIES!" he yelled.

Snape hesitated before answering, "Fine, I will leave if that is what you wish, but just beware that if I cannot stay here, Potter will become more vulnerable to the Dark Lord and then He will have access to your house," he said as aunt Petunia stood behind Vernon.

Snape glanced at her as she said, "Vernon, dear, let him stay. I'm sure Harry needs the help…"

"Harry needs all the help he can get," Snape muttered, again catching Harry by surprise by using his first name.

"The Dark Lord," said Vernon, "Are you talking about Voldemort?" he asked.

Snape tensed up, then slowly looked at Harry, giving him a look that clearly said, "You're dead," and looked back at Vernon, "That name is a name all…_most_," he corrected, glancing at Harry, "wizards and witches fear to speak and hear. Potter doesn't fear it because he didn't grow up knowing it," he said, glaring at Harry's aunt and uncle as if they were to blame, "That name will _not_ be spoken whilst I am here," he said.

"Or what?" chided Vernon, "You'll pull a rabbit out of my hat?" he said, giving a revolting laugh.

Snape took out his wand and examined it, finally pointing it at the two. Both of their eyes grew wide, "Or I'll curse you into oblivion," he said, smirking. "Now," he said, standing up, "Where shall I sleep? Surely not in Potter's room; I doubt either one of us could survive that…"

"No, no of course not. We've got a hide-a-bed in the sofa, or you can sleep in Dudley's room…" Petunia spoke up as Mr. Dursley also stood up.

"Dudley?" Snape asked, clearly interested.

Harry knew the only reason Snape was interested was because he had seen Dudley in Harry's mind the last time they had practiced Occlumency together.

Petunia nervously nodded.

"I suppose the sofa will have to do…"

"No, Potter can give up his bed and he can sleep on the sofa," said Vernon, the redness fading from his face.

Snape gave them a smirk, Harry supposed, because he couldn't smile.

"And where can Potter and I practice?" he asked, "Not in the yard, we don't want muggles seeing us. Perhaps we can…clear this room out?" he suggested.

"Of course, of course," said Petunia as she and Vernon moved the table to the wall. Snape looked at them as if they were the stupidest people alive and muttered, "Locomotor Television," and the T.V. moved to where Snape wanted it. All three Dursleys stood transfixed at the act of magic. Dudley looked more terrified than anything, but once that expression had worn off he looked dismayed that they were moving his sanctuary.

"Mum!" he complained, "What are they doing?"

"Hush, now, popkins…one of Harry's professors is here and they need to room to practice some magic!" she told him as Snape looked up to see Dudley.

"P…practice…magic?" he asked, covering his over-large bottom.

"Dear, Severus will be doing the magic to Harry, not to you. You have nothing to worry about," she reassured him.

Harry wished she hadn't, that way he would be afraid of Snape as long as he was here.

Snape looked up at the sound of his name and Petunia had noticed.

"My…my sister went to school with you," she said, a disgusted expression coming over her face.

"And who, may I ask, was your sister?" he quietly asked.

"Lily…Lily Evans," she replied, the expression becoming more pronounced.

"Yes," said Snape, pointing his wand another chair and moving it into the sitting room, "I remember her well. Quite like Hermione Granger if I may say so," he said.

"You keep quiet about my mum and Hermione," Harry said, anger boiling up inside of him.

"Now now, Potter, mind your attitude," he scolded, taking his wand out of his robes again and standing across the room from Harry.

Harry took his own out of his pocket and pointed it at Snape. He was barely aware of all three of his relatives staring at them; he was emptying his mind.

"On the count of three," Snape said, concentrating, "One…two…three…"

Harry could see Snape for a moment before his thoughts took over.

Dementors were gliding toward him as he was yelling at Dudley, Wormtail was slicing his arm open, Cedric was lying with his eyes wide-open, Voldemort was looking at him from the other side of the vale…

He heard Dudley whimpering as he opened his eyes. He was on the ground and Dudley was standing petrified behind his mother.

"Stop it, Dudley, you're distracting me," he said, shakily standing up.

Snape was looking at him.

"What?" he asked.

"You've had another dream," he stated.

"Yeah, that's just what it was," said Harry, getting himself a glass of water, "I don't see how Vol…You-Know-Who could have been on the other side of that thing because Sirius…" he stopped.

"Sirius is gone, Potter. Dwelling on the past doesn't help your matter…"

Harry interrupted him, "Well, it's a little hard _not_ to!" he yelled, "When your parents have died because of Voldemort, and you've fought him off five times, and you've been possessed by him, and you've seen him come back, and you've lost some one close to you because you were so damn stupid, _then_ tell me not to dwell on the past!" he spit, "I've managed to get two people killed in one year alone!"

The kitchen was silent, Harry knew, because all of this was news to three out of the five of them.

"Potter," Snape finally said, "I realize what you've been through, but try being a follower of Voldemort, and try enduring _Crucio_ from him," Snape quietly said.

Harry was speechless. Not only had Snape spoken to him in a civil tone, but he had also said Voldemort's name.

"After I watched Wormtail kill Cedric with the Avada Kadavra curse, the same curse he used on my parents, he tied me to a headstone and when he had restored Voldemort, Voldemort used _Crucio_ on me. _While_ I was tied to the headstone. I wanted to _die_," he said, watching Snape's expression.

"Let's try again," he said, raising his wand. All three of the others recoiled and Snape smirked, "One…two…three…"

Harry was trying to solve the riddle in the maze, inches away from catching the snitch at the last Quidditch match he had played in, Cho was crying, Ron was covered with memories from the brain, Hermione was hit with a spell that knocked her cold, Harry was watching Voldemort return, he was watching helplessly as Cedric was hit with a green jet of light, Sirius was falling through the archway…

"NO!" Harry yelled, once again on the ground.

"Clear your mind, Potter!" Snape ordered, his tone no longer civil.

"I'm _trying_!" he yelled, grabbing his scar, which had begun to prickle.

"_Again_, Potter," said Snape.

Harry tried as quickly as possible to rid his mind of all thoughts, but now he was yelling at Umbridge in the middle of class, he was throwing Dumbledore's possessions around his office, he was talking to a portrait on Sirius's wall, he was ridding his house of doxies, and then something he'd never seen before, nor remembered…a man in a dark cloak, in a room he didn't know…the woman was screaming, the man was laughing, and then the room filled with green light and the lady's voice faltered, then stopped, and the man pointed his wand toward Harry…

"POTTER!" Snape was yelling, but Harry paid no attention. He was replaying in his mind what he'd just seen. He'd heard that moment of time before when dementors were near him, but he'd never actually seen it, watched it play out…

"_POTTER!_" he heard both his uncle and Snape yell.

He looked up at them, "Wha?" he asked, fazed.

"I think that's enough for tonight," said Snape, eyeing him skeptically.

"No, no I have to get this down," said Harry, standing up. He certainly didn't want to see that again, and the only way he could stop that from happening was to continue practicing Occlumency.

Snape studied him, "That was…"

"I _KNOW_ WHAT IT WAS!" Harry yelled, not wanting to even think about it, "I KNOW WHAT IT _WAS_!" he repeated, feeling tears dampen his face, "IF YOU MUST KNOW IT WAS MY MUM, RIGHT BEFORE SHE DIED!" he yelled, falling to the ground again.

Everyone was silent, watching him.

Harry took a large breath and calmly said, "Do it again," then stood up and wiped his tears, ready.

Snape seemed reluctant, but obeyed him, "One…two…three…"

Harry concentrated on Snape, and Snape only. He studied everything from his greasy hair to his over-shined shoes. The room went out of focus a few times, and he could see only glimpses of his own memories, but finally yelled, "Expelliarmus!" and Snape's wand flew out of his hand to the ground before Harry.

Snape had a content expression settle on his face as Harry said, "Wingardium Leviosa," and aimed it toward Snape who caught it.

Harry glanced at his relatives who were all standing fascinated at the scene. Dudley had even forgotten to defend his corpulent bottom, not that it would have done any good anyway.

"Very good, Potter," Snape complimented, "It seems as if we're finally getting somewhere."

"I don't have Umbridge taking everything away from me," he muttered.

"As true as that may be, Potter, it didn't have to stop you from clearing your mind," said Snape, raising his wand yet again.

Harry glared at him, "Ready," he muttered.

"One…" Snape began, but Harry was already prepared, using one of the spells he had learned in the D.A. meetings, blasted Snape backward into the wall, leaving a huge dent and a crack across the ceiling.

Aunt Petunia screamed, unsuccessfully trying to cover Dudley, and Uncle Vernon very successfully covered Petunia, but not Dudley.

Snape quickly recovered from the explosion, and Harry was sure he was in for it, but Snape only flicked his wand, muttered, "Reparo," and everything went back to normal, stunning all three relatives into silence.

Harry and Snape simultaneously looked at them, then at each other.

"Very, very good, Potter, I am not aware that such a spell had been taught to anyone under the sixth year…" his sentence trailed off.

"Again," said Harry.

"I can assure you, Potter, that when the Dark Lord tries to break into your mind, you will have no warning, as you have already experienced, so I suggest you do not disarm me or curse me _before_ I try to break into your mind."

"Yes sir," Harry replied, raising his wand.

"One…two…three…" he said.

Harry had more of a struggle this time, but managed to stay conscious.

"Potter, do something to stop me," Snape ordered.

Harry was on the verge of losing his mind to Snape and no curses or spells came to mind.

"Potter!" Snape yelled.

"I…I don't…can't…IMPEDIMENTA!" he yelled, a stream of light striking Snape.

All action stopped and Snape only stood there.

"Whoa," said Harry, admiring his work.

_Look at my aunt,_ he thought, and Snape obediently looked at Petunia who took a step back.

Snape suddenly snapped out of it, "Potter…" Snape breathlessly said as if he'd just run a mile.

"Yes?" he asked, "I'm…sorry, it's the first one that…"

"No," he interrupted, "That was very good, very _very_ good," he said, clutching his wand tightly, "But unfortunately I don't think a curse like that from a boy like you will have much of an impact on the Dark Lord. It barely worked on me, and the Dark Lord is much…much more powerful. Potter, if you could master that curse…and use it successfully on the Dark Lord…" Snape trailed off.

_There's something wrong here,_ Harry thought. There was something terribly, terribly wrong.

"Professor?" Harry asked, taking a step toward him.

"Enough for tonight, Potter. We'll pick this up in the morning," he said, looking very tired.

"Uh, right…" Harry nervously replied.

"Potter, you're sleeping on the sofa," Vernon suddenly said, making Snape and Harry both jump. Harry had quite forgotten he was there.

"Yeah, alright," he said.

"No," Snape said, looking at Harry, the Vernon.

"Pardon me?" Vernon asked.

"In the next few days Harry will be weakened and weary from practicing Occlumency. It's pertinent that he gets enough comfortable rest so that he can do this to his full potential every day. I'll take the sofa…"

Petunia interrupted him, "Oh no, Severus, that's not necessary. Duddykins here will take the sofa and you can take his bed," she said.

"Mum!" Dudley whined. Harry didn't need Trelawny's help to know that there was going to be a yelling match between Dudley and Petunia that night.

"Here, I'll show you where his room is," Harry tiredly muttered, heading toward the hall. Snape followed him all the way up the stairs to Dudley's room.

"Don't mind the mess," he said, not looking at his professor, "just so you know we might be up for a little longer. Dudley doesn't exactly like it when he doesn't get his way."

"Well, we'll have to fix that, won't we, Potter?" Snape asked.

As Harry dressed and got into bed, he almost fell asleep instantly, quite accustomed to Dudley's furies. But in that moment just before he fell into worlds of dreams and terrors, he could have sworn that he had seen Snape smile.


	2. Chapter 2: James the Conceited

**A/N:** Well, so far there are no reviews, so I'll post the next chapter and then I'll wait until I get atleast one for each chapter. Anyway, please review, I would appreciate it much.

James the Conceited 

Harry woke up the next day to what he thought was a fly buzzing around his head. But when he opened his eyes and sat up, Pigwidgeon was gleefully flying around his room.

"Back already?" he tiredly asked, catching him as if he were a snitch and untying the letter from his leg.

As he unrolled the piece of parchment, Harry noticed Dumbledore's owl had gone.

"Harry, Hermione came over last night and we can't wait until you arrive. I tried to convince mum and dad that you should come over earlier because I heard that Snape was living with you, but they said you need to practice Occlumency as much as you can. Anyway, I thought mum told you before you left with your aunt and uncle that they expected you to come over. Dumbledore sent your broom over days ago. I reckon he thought you didn't have any use for it at your aunt and uncle's house and he knew you'd be coming here, so he just sent it straight here. Well, enjoy Occlumency. I expect your cousin is having loads of fun. See you soon."

Harry turned the parchment over and, just like the day before, wrote his reply on the back, "Good, that's one less thing I have to remember when I pack. Yeah, Snape is sleeping in Dudley's bed. I don't know what's going on with him. He was so mean when we left school, and he wasn't any better when he arrived here at first. But then my aunt and uncle wanted me to sleep on the couch so Snape could sleep on my bed, but Snape told them I should sleep in my bed. He's so odd. And then we had a dandy conversation about who had endured more from Voldemort. And then he did the weirdest thing, Ron. When I showed him to Dudley's room, he smiled at me. He i_actually_/i smiled! I'm going to have nightmares for months…ha ha… Yeah, I'll see you soon. Say hi to Hermione for me. Your friend, Harry."

Once again, Harry tied the letter to Pig's leg and he zoomed out the window and out of sight.

"Potter, get down here!" Vernon yelled.

_Dejavu,_ Harry thought.

Harry quietly, but quickly made his way through the hall, down the stairs and to the kitchen where his uncle's voice had come from.

"Make us some eggs. Hurry up, boy!" his uncle commanded, walking from the kitchen to the sitting room and switching the telly on.

It was a moment, after Harry had gotten the skillet and eggs out, before he noticed Snape standing on the other side of the breakfast bar, studying him.

"What?" he asked, turning the stove on and setting the skillet on the burner.

It was another moment before Snape spoke, "You seem to have come very far in your studies of Occlumency, Potter," he calmly said, "Have you been practicing since you came home from school?"

"You mean since I've come to prison from home?" he sarcastically asked, only earning a scowl. Harry didn't want to admit that he hadn't been practicing, but what was the harm now that he had improved?

"No, I haven't been practicing, why?" he asked.

"You must have been practicing some how, Potter. You can't improve that much in that short amount of time with out some kind of practice. Surely you have…"

Harry interrupted him, pouring oil in the pan, making it sizzle slightly, "I haven't been practicing. I've had too much on my mind."

Snape didn't say anything, only studied him again.

"Mum I want _ice_-cream for breakfast!" Dudley complained as what sounded like a herd of elephants came down the stairs.

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes as he heard his aunt say, "Well, Duddykins, we're going to have yummy eggs for breakfast! We can have ice-cream for desert after dinner. How does that sound?"

"I want ice-cream!" he yelled, banging into the kitchen, making Snape jump and look at him.

"Harry is making us nice eggs now, aren't you Harry?" she asked, looking at Harry.

"Oh, yes…" he began, but was interrupted by an enormous sound.

"I'M NOT GOING TO EAT ANYTHING HE MAKES! HE'S GOING TO POISON IT! MUM HE'S GOING TO USE MAGIC TO KILL ME!" he yelled, spilling crocodile tears down his face.

Harry only rolled his eyes again and cracked three of the eggs, spilling them into the skillet.

"Dudley, dear, Harry isn't allowed to use magic out side of school, remember?" she tried reassuring him.

"HE USED MAGIC LAST NIGHT!" he yelled as Vernon, quite flustered, came into the kitchen to see what was making all the racket.

A realization came to Harry as the eggs started to sizzle. Dumbledore had twisted the underage magic law for Harry so he could use magic to practice Occlumency. This only meant that he could use magic whenever he wanted…

"Potter," said Snape, making him snap back to reality, "I only saw part of your dream. Was it like the others?"

"How do you mean?" he asked, concentrating on the eggs.

"Did you see yourself as the Dark Lord?" he asked, irritation sounding in his voice.

Harry thought a moment, wondering the same thing. Yes, he had seen Voldemort behind the vale, but did that mean that there was a mirror behind the vale or did it simply mean Harry had seen him?

"No, I didn't," he finally answered, "But I did see him."

Snape looked slightly interested.

"Do you know what it means, professor?" Harry asked, looking at him.

Snape only looked back, not saying anything.

Harry looked down at the skillet and flipped the eggs over, wondering why he expected any answers out of Snape.

"What's this non-sense?" Vernon asked as Dudley's wails became louder.

"What non-sense?" Harry absentmindedly asked.

"About dreams and such!" he yelled over Dudley.

"Hush, hush, dear," said Petunia, trying to usher him into the living room.

"When I dream at night I'm actually dreaming what Voldem…you-know-who is dreaming about. Sometimes I actually see what he's seeing and do what he's doing, alright?" Harry explained, becoming impatient.

"Don't you take that tone with me, boy!" he yelled, his face growing purple.

"It seems as if the tables have turned, Potter," Snape calmly said.

"Huh?" Harry stupidly asked, looking from his uncle to Snape.

"It seems as if you are dreaming your own dreams, Potter," Snape said. Harry noticed he was also feeling impatient, "Not the Dark Lord's."

"Oh, right," said Harry, sliding the eggs onto a plate as Dudley came back into the kitchen, wiping his face.

"Here," Harry muttered, handing him the three eggs.

Dudley stared at it in horror.

"What?" Harry yelled.

"_This_ is all I get?" he asked.

"It's all I've made, Duddykins," Harry sarcastically replied, watching Dudley, just like his father, turn purple.

The next thing Harry knew, Dudley had thrown the plate into his face so egg was dripping onto his nightclothes, Uncle Vernon was laughing, and Petunia was softly scolding a cackling Dudley.

Harry, trying not to blow up, pulled what egg he could off of his face, hair and nightclothes and threw it down the garbage disposal.

He looked up at Snape and saw a smirk playing across his face, making Harry even angrier.

"Are we a little messy when we eat, Potter?" he softly asked, hushing the three Dursleys.

Harry glared at him as Snape raised his wand. He quickly looked at his uncle, who clearly thought Snape was going to hex him, who had the happiest expression he'd ever seen him wear.

Snape gave his wand a little flick and all of the egg vanished. He then stood up and walked around to where Harry was standing and magically cooked not only eggs, but bacon and toast.

Harry watched wide-eyed and open-mouthed as Snape worked.

"Fix that plate, potter," Harry's uncle ordered him, wearing a smug expression, "If it's not fixed enough to be used, then you're not allowed to go back to that mad-house you call a school," he finished and left the room, Dudley and Petunia close behind.

Harry looked down at the plate, which had fallen to the ground and shattered. It looked as if it was broken beyond repair, but Harry knew better.

"Fine," he muttered, pulling his wand out of his pajama pocket, "Reparo," he said, then picked up the plate, took it into the sitting room and thrust it under his uncle's nose.

"Here," he said, "I fixed it."

His uncle stared at it a moment, finally grabbing it. He looked at it as if it were some kind of horrible creature that shouldn't be messed with, then broke it in two over his knee.

"There," he said, as if that had done it, "_now_ fix it," he triumphantly handed Harry the plate pieces and sat back in his chair, watching Harry's face.

"Alright," said Harry, pointing his wand at his, watching his uncle's smug expression turn to surprise, "Reparo."

The plate fixed itself, "I think I'll go put it away now," Harry said, not wanting to fix it yet again. He walked into the kitchen and opened a cupboard, placing the plate in its respectable place.

"Quite the relatives you have, Potter," Snape smirked as he put three pieces of bacon on a plate, "In fact, they remind me vividly of your father…" he let his sentence trail off.

Harry tried his best to control his anger even though he knew Snape was right. He had seen, in Snape's pensive the year before, just how horrible and conceited his father really was.

_But something must've changed_ he thought as he looked at the melting butter on the toast, _or my mum wouldn't have married him_


	3. Chapter 3: Elvin Heads

**A/N:** I am just going to put up all the chapters I have so far, which may take me until tonight because I have school, but here is Chapter three. Please please review! I would appreciate it very much!

Elvin Heads 

Over the next few days, Harry greatly improved in Occlumency and on the sixth day of Snape's stay, he was eagerly waiting for Ron and Bill to pick him up.

"Are they coming through the fire place?" was the frequently asked question of the week and Harry found it quite amusing that the Dursleys jumped at every little noise as the days of Harry and Snape's stay drew to a close.

Snape had become himself after the second day, telling Harry he was just like his conceited father and that he would never amount to anything. Harry at one point had gotten so angry with Snape that he hexed him, but immediately regretted it when Snape hexed him back, causing him to talk gibberish so the Dursleys had a laugh.

Harry sat rigidly on the sofa, hoping Snape would stay up in Dudley's room until Ron had arrived, but no such luck. Fifteen minutes before Ron and Bill were due, Snape carried what little belongings he had brought with him to the living room where the fireplace was.

"Are you leaving?" Vernon fervently asked.

Snape slowly turned, "I have told you too many times, Dursley, that I am leaving at precisely six o clock this evening. If I have to tell you again, I have a jinx with your name written on it.

Both the Dursleys and Snape being hard to live with, Harry found himself wishing they'd all vanish off the face the earth.

Ten minutes later, Ron first appeared in the fireplace, causing Dudley to squeal with fright and run off, then Bill.

"Hey Harry!" Ron happily exclaimed, walking over to him.

"Hi, Ron," said Harry, grinning as Snape walked back into the sitting room from the kitchen.

Ron's smile slid off of his face as he caught sight of their potions teacher, but he didn't say anything for which Harry was grateful.

"H…hi Bill," Harry awkwardly said, shaking his hand as he noticed Ron glaring at Snape. Snape didn't acknowledge Ron or Harry, but only sat on the sofa, which Harry had immediately unoccupied.

"Hey there, Harry. How's your summer so far?" he asked, grabbing Harry's trunk.

"Oh, it's alright. Could be better," he said, carefully watching Snape.

Bill's expression turned dark, "I know what you mean. Percy is being such a blockhead. Mum and dad are under a lot of stress as it is for the Order; they don't need him telling them how superior he is over them."

"Er…yeah…how's uh…Fleur?" Harry asked, trying to change the subject.

"Oh, she and I broke up a long time ago," Bill stated, although his face turned a bright shade of red and he looked away, "How's Cho?" he asked.

Harry was surprised, "Well, I'm not sure. Every time I go to talk about her all she wants to talk about is Cedric, and I don't want to talk about him at all. But then she cries her eyes out and it's really annoying," Harry babbled, letting out emotions and feelings he had kept in for so long.

Ron grinned and looked at Bill, "Basically he's broken up with her," he said, looking back at Harry.

"Well, we never really started going out, Ron," said Harry. He found it awkward to be talking about his love life in front of his most loathsome professor, and apparently so did he.

"Are you three going to hang around talking about your petty little love lives or are you going to leave?" he impatiently asked.

"Why haven't _you_ left yet?" Harry demanded.

"Because, Potter," Snape softly began, "The head master doesn't expect me until six. I see you are just as thick as your relatives over there," he said, slightly gesturing with his head to the three Dursleys who had been standing in the doorway, watching the scene.

Harry glared at him, "You may be right about my dad, but you're not about me, so I suggest…" he began.

"I suggest you keep your mouth closed, Potter, or there might be a very good chance of failing Potions this year…" he trailed off.

"C'mon," Harry said, turning to Bill, "Do you have the floo powder?" he asked.

"Yeah," he said, pulling a bag of floo powder out of his robes. Harry took a handful, and without looking back, stood in the fireplace and said, as clearly as he could, "The Burrow."

He felt warm and a spinning sensation for a moment before his feet collided with the ground. He quickly departed from the Weasly's fireplace so Ron and Bill could get through.

"Oh Harry dear, it's so nice to see you again," Mrs. Weasly said before he saw her.

"Uh, yeah, nice to see you too," he replied, "Where's Hermione?" he asked.

"She's upstairs with Ginny. Are you hungry?" she asked.

"No, thanks though. I think I'll go find Hermione once Ron's arrived."

"Yes, that's fine. Just don't unpack because we'll be going to Gremauld Place first thing tomorrow morning," she said, clearly unaware she had just caused Harry to shudder.

"Alright," he quietly replied as Ron appeared in the fireplace.

"Hey Harry, Hermione's upstairs…I think…" was the first thing he said.

"Yeah, I was just going to go see her," he said as they headed up the old rickety, wooden staircase.

"Maybe if we're lucky," Ron whispered, trying not to make the stairs creak, "We'll hear them talking about you," he held a finger to his lips.

Harry only raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything other wise.

As they got closer to Ginny's room, he heard her voice, "Have you ever liked him more than a friend, Hermione?" she asked.

Hermione didn't say anything for a moment, "No, of course not," another moment of silence the, "Well, yes. Yes I did, but not for very long. I started to like him in our fourth year, but I then I saw he had his eye on Cho, so I stopped liking him and supported him with his decision to date her."

"I used to like him. I liked him before I even met him. I used to have these fantasies where he would come flying in on a dragon and rescue me from a very tall tower."

Hermione laughed, "Really?"

"Yeah. I never thought he'd actually rescue me from You-Know-Who and a basilisk with a sword," she said, laughter in her voice.

"Why _do_ you like him again?" Hermione curiously asked.

Ginny was silent for a moment, "I don't know. Michael turned out to be such a know-it-all…oh no, Hermione, not like you. He said unintelligent things that didn't make any sense," she interrupted herself.

Hermione gave a loud laugh, "I don't mind. I really don't care what people say about me as long as I have my friends."

"That's great Hermione," Ginny said with admiration in her voice, "I wish I didn't care what people thought about me. I'm always so self-conscience."

"Yeah, but Ron will always be there for you no matter how often he says you're annoying," Hermione laughed with Ginny.

Ron grinned at Harry and mouthed, "I told you so," at him, then said very loudly as he walked into the room, "Hey guys, we've just arrived."

Harry walked in to see the shocked expression on Ginny and Hermione's faces, "How much have you heard, Ronald?" Ginny demanded, slightly blushing.

"How much of what have I heard? I know Snape wasn't very pleasant when we met him at Harry's aunt and uncle's house…" he said as if they hadn't heard anything.

Harry tried hard to conceal a smile. He didn't know why, but he found the fact that Ginny liked him very comical.

"When _is_ he pleasant, Ron?" Hermione asked.

Ron shrugged as he sat on Ginny's bed. Hermione and Ginny were sitting on the floor brushing Crookshanks. Harry stood in the doorway and crossed his arms.

"Anyway, I think Harry and I will practice some Quidditch with Bill after supper tonight," Ron said.

"In the dark?" Ginny asked.

"It doesn't get dark until nine-thirty, Ginny!" Ron exclaimed, "We'll have time after supper!"

"But what about the muggles…" she began to ask.

Ron interrupted her, "When have you ever been worried about muggles?" Ron asked, "We've practiced before and you haven't worried about them."

Ginny shrugged as she brushed Crookshanks down his tail, "I don't know. It's just that it seems reckless is all…"

"_Reckless_? You're worried about being reckless?" he asked, wide-eyed.

"You can't blame her, Ron, with the brothers she has," Hermione absent-mindedly said.

Ron gaped at her, "_I'm_ one of her brothers, Hermione!"

"So, Ginny, how're Fred and George?" Harry asked, not willing to go through another fight between Ron and Hermione.

Ginny looked startled that he had said her name, "Oh, well…I suppose they're alright. They're supposed to meet us at Gremauld Place tomorrow, you can ask them yourself then," she said, never looking at him.

"Yeah, I suppose I could. How long are we going to stay there for?" he asked, wanting to keep Hermione and Ron from bickering as long as he could.

"How long dyou think?" Ron asked as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, "Until the school year starts, of course!"

"Oh," Harry said, looking down, "Right."

"How has your summer been, Harry?" Hermione asked.

He looked at her, then through Ginny's window, not wanting to talk about it, "Alright I guess."

Ginny gave him a questioning look while Hermione gave him an understanding one, "It's alright, Harry. I know you're sad that he's gone and I admit, you're going to be depressed for a while, but you can't bring him back."

"He was…" Harry began, then stopped. He was about to say, "He was like my father," but didn't because he knew what his father was really like.

"Was what, mate?" Ron asked.

"He was like another father to me," he said, looking back at Hermione. "I've never had someone like that care about me before. I mean, besides your mum, Ron. The Dursleys would rather see me dead than be part of their family. But your mum and Sirius…they were the closest to a mum and dad I've ever had," he said, looking to the ground.

Everyone was silent for what seemed like an eternity when Bill came up to the room, "Hey Ron, Harry, are you guys ready for some Quidditch practice?" he asked.

"Hey!" Ginny exclaimed, "What about me?"

"Oh yeah, and the pip-squeak," he said, smiling at her. She smiled back and it was clear to Harry that Ginny and Bill were close to each other as siblings.

Ron and Ginny followed Bill down the staircase and Harry was about to trail on behind them when Hermione caught his arm and walked slowly with him.

"Harry, I've been wanting to ask you…but I know it's not all that important…just something I've been wondering…"

"What is it, Hermione?" Harry asked, stopping their descent down the stairs.

"Well, you know how you can see the thestrals?" she asked.

He nodded, knowing what she was going to ask, "What about them?" he asked her as they continued down the stairs.

"I can't see them, obviously, so I was wondering if you could…you know…tell me exactly what they…er…look like?" she asked.

"Oh," he said as if he were surprised by the question. In truth he wasn't; he knew it was only a matter of time before she or Ron asked him, "They're sort of frightening, actually. They've got white eyes which is alarming, especially at first, and they're black. They kind of look like skeletons with bits and pieces of rotten cloth covering them. They're quite horrible. They look just like…like death," he finished.

Harry felt a shiver course through his body as they went outside.

"Here, Harry, Dumbledore sent this over ages ago," Ron said, handing him his Firebolt.

Harry smiled, "That's great, Ron," he said, examining it.

Ron's expression became sour, "Yeah, but I bet Malfoy will have the newest one," he said with disgust.

Hermione gave a short laugh, "I bet his whole _team_ will have them."

"What's the new one?" Harry asked as Bill came back with three broomsticks.

"Do you want to play, Hermione?" he asked.

Hermione hesitated before answering, and when Harry looked around to her to see if she was breathing, he found her stuttering, "Uh, well…no…er…thanks anyway," as a blush creeped up her face.

"Anyway, the new one is called something like the…er…. well, I'm not sure exactly, but it's supposed to be the best one yet…"

"That's what they say about all the new ones," Bill sarcastically said as he mounted his own broom.

Harry rolled his eyes and couldn't help but think, _well duh!_

Ginny, Harry and Ron all mounted their brooms and kicked off from the ground. Harry felt the wonderful flying sensation that he hadn't been able to feel for the last two years, and laughed out loud, "This is great!" he happily yelled at Ron, who was nearest him.

"Dyou mind opening the trunk, Hermione, and throwing up just one quaffel?" Bill yelled down to her.

"Sure," she said, heading over to the trunk.

Harry gave Ron a questioning look, "When dad got the raise he thought it would be better for us to get something other than those ten-balls to practice with."

"I told him we could've just used Pig," Bill yelled from further away.

Ron rolled his eyes, "He's been teasing me about Pig ever since he found out he was mine," he lamely said.

"Well, if I were Bill I probably would too," Harry laughed, only causing Ron to glare at him, "Sorry," he said, trying not to grin.

Harry saw Hermione throw the quaffel to Bill, who caught it on the ends of his fingertips, and he threw it to Harry, but it fell short a few feet and Harry had to dive forward on his broom to retrieve it.

"Here, Ginny!" he yelled, just barely catching it and throwing it in her direction.

"Oh!" he heard her say and when he looked up he saw her fumble with it, drop it and turn bright scarlet, "Sorry!" she apologized, lunging to get it.

Ron smirked at Harry, "You're making her nervous," he teased.

"Shut it, Ron," he said back, but he couldn't help but grin.

Ron suddenly said, "Harry, you aren't…well, you aren't going to actually…you know…ask my sister out…are you?" he asked.

Harry laughed, "Oh right, I think she'd die of shock if I did that," he replied.

Ron gave a short, nervous laugh, "Right," he said as the quaffel smacked into his arm.

"You guys are hopeless," Bill said.

"Well, Harry's making Ginny nervous…"

"_Ron_!" Ginny exclaimed.

"And I happened to be talking to Harry," Ron continued as if Ginny hadn't said anything.

"Well, you aren't going to be talking to Harry like that during a real game, are you?" Bill asked.

"Well…er…I suppose not," Ron stuttered as Hermione picked it up and threw it back up to Ron.

"Thanks Hermy!" Ron teased her.

Hermione only laughed, which was contagious to Harry and soon Ron was also laughing.

Harry saw Bill and Ginny give each other questioning looks, shrug and start playing catch with each other.

"It's a long story," Harry told Bill, who raised his eyebrows.

Harry, Ron, Ginny and Bill continued passing the quaffel around until Mrs. Weasly called them in for supper.

"Your father should be home any minute," Mrs. Weasly told the room in general, glancing up at her clock.

Sure enough, not even a minute later Mr. Weasly walked through the front door and straight to his wife, kissing her on the cheek.

"How was work, dear?" she asked, continuing to put food on everyone's plates.

Mr. Weasly set his jacket and parcel down on an extra chair, then sat at the table, "Quite slow, quite slow," he said, sounding tired though he didn't look it.

"How many raids?" she asked.

"Only three today, dear," he said, looking at Harry, "Hi there, Harry!" he greeted him.

"Hi, Mr. Weasly," he replied.

"Having a good summer?" he harmlessly asked.

Harry hesitated, "Yeah, it's been great."

"I hear that your not so favorite professor has been rooming with you," he said, handing Mrs. Weasly his plate.

Harry looked down, "Yeah. Well, he never slept in my room. But he spent about a week at my aunt and uncle's house."

"Good, good," he said, taking his plate back.

"No dad, that's bad," Ron said, looking at Harry, then to Mr. Weasly.

"Well, it all comes out to good, Ron. You can't always look at the negative."

Ron looked at Harry again and they both shrugged, looking down to their plates.

"I agree with Mr. Weasly," Hermione spoke up.

"Big surprise," Bill muttered and Hermione threw him a nasty glare.

"It may have not been pleasant at the time, but Harry, would you rather have to deal with Snape and not have… _him_" she said for the sake of the Weaslys, "know what's going on in the Order, or would you like to not have to deal with Snape, but deal with guilt of giving him everything you _know_ about the Order? Personally, I'd rather deal with Snape."

"I'd just kill them both," Ron said, moving his mashed potatoes around his plate.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Unless it depended not only on your life, but several dozens of other lives too, Ronald," she said.

Ron only shrugged.

Hermione gave an impatient sigh and rolled her eyes, but didn't say anything.

"Is that enough for you to eat, Harry dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

Harry looked up at her, then back down to his plate, "Yeah, it's great Mrs. Weasley."

At that moment, Hedwig flew in through the door and landed on Harry's shoulder.

"Hey, Hedwig," Harry muttered, pulling the letter off of the owl's leg.

"Who's it from, Harry?" Hermione asked with interest.

"Mad-eye I'd expect," Mr. Weasly spoke up, letting his arms rest on the table.

Harry opened it and read it out loud,

"Dear Harry,

How are you? I got your owl at the beginning of the summer and I'm sorry that I haven't written lately, but I've been busy with you-know-what. How were your Occlumency lessons with Snape? I hope they went well. I know living with someone you don't exactly appreciate can be dreadful. You got to The Burrow alright, then? Send a post as soon as possible.

With Greatest Regards,

Remus Lupin"

"Oh, it was from Remus, then," Mrs. Weasley unnecessarily said.

"Yeah," Harry replied, reading the letter over again, "I'll write him another letter after supper," he finished.

"You sent a letter to Lupin?" Hermione asked.

Harry thought a moment, "No, no I didn't. I sent one to Mad-eye."

"So then, why did Lupin write you?" she asked.

He shrugged, "I don't know."

After supper Harry, Ron and Hermione all hurried up to Ron's room and quickly wrote a reply to Lupin.

"Dear Lupin,

I'm alright, yeah; I got to The Burrow fine. Snape was a menace after the first day he was there. It was complete and utter torture. What ever happened to Mad-eye? Didn't I send him an owl? Anyway, tell me how everyone is and send a post soon.

Sincerely,

Harry Potter."

"How's that?" he asked his two best friends.

Ron and Hermione read it over, "It's brilliant, Harry," Ron said as if Harry had just gotten an "O" on a potions paper.

"It's good, send it," Hermione approved.

Harry rolled it up and waited a few minutes for Hedwig to finish eating and drinking.

"Here, Hedwig," he told her, tying the letter to her leg, "Give this to Remus Lupin," he commanded and off she flew.

"Well, there's not much else to do," Ron said, slumping on his bed. Hermione sat straight up in Ron's desk chair, "It's too dark out there to practice any Quidditch and…well, there's nothing else to do."

"What about chess?" Harry suggested.

Ron gave him a dark look, "Mum put it up in the attic and put a charm on the door so that she'd know if any of us went up there without her permission."

Harry started at him. That did sound like something Ron's mum would do, but not for something like a chessboard, "Why?" was all he could get out of his mouth.

Ron shrugged, "I guess she reckons the pieces carry some kind of dark magic."

"But Ron, Dumbledore was the one who told your mum to put it in the attic. He's coming here tonight to pick it up," Hermione cut in.

Harry's eyes narrowed, "Dumbledore is going to pick it up?" he asked.

"Yeah," Ron said as if he were losing something he dearly loved.

"If Dumbledore thinks there's something wrong with it, then obviously there _is_ something wrong with it. He's never wrong," Harry commented.

"That's what I tried to explain to Ron, but…" Hermione began before Ron cut her off.

"A chessboard and its pieces are harmless!" he demanded, "Honest! When have you ever heard of chess pieces conducting some kind of dark magic on its owner?" he asked.

Harry shrugged, "Your mum always said to never trust anything that can do things but doesn't have a brain…or…something like that, right?"

Ron looked down, "Yeah, but she's never taken chess away from us until now."

"I'm sure there's a good reason, Ronald. Especially if Dumbledore's getting involved," Hermione reassured.

Harry looked out of Ron's window, "Speaking of Dumbledore," he said as he saw him apparate next to the Weasley's pigpen.

"Bloody hell, Dumbledore…at my house…" Ron trailed off, then his eyes widened, "We haven't cleaned the house in days!" he exclaimed.

"Oh Ron, it doesn't look that bad. I'm sure it'll be ok," Hermione laughed at Ron's expression.

"Albus!" they heard Ron's dad's muffled voice exclaim. Ron looked as if he were going to be sick.

"Hey, at least it's not Snape," Harry told him.

"Welcome to our home!" his mum welcomed him.

They heard Dumbledore's voice, but Harry couldn't quite make out what he was saying.

"Come on," Hermione said, wrenching Ron's door open, "Let's go."

The three of them quietly walked down the stairs and into the sitting room where the two Weasley parents, Bill and Dumbledore were standing. Bill glanced at them as they walked in.

"You say this chess set has been…" Dumbledore began.

"Watching us, yes," Mr. Weasley finished for him.

Dumbledore frowned.

"_Watching_ us?" Ron exclaimed, "How can a chess set _watch_ you?" he incredulously asked.

"Ron, this isn't your place," Mrs. Weasley pleasantly replied.

Ron looked ashamed of himself for a brief moment until Dumbledore replied to him.

"You see, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore started, turning to him, "I have reason to believe that someone has bewitched your chess men to watch every move your family makes so that Voldemort can spy on your family."

Ron stared at him, "I…I don't understand…" Ron stuttered.

Hermione spoke up, "Somebody wanted to spy on them for Voldemort (everyone except Harry, Dumbledore and Hermione shuddered) because of…" she let her sentence trail off.

_The Order,_ Harry finished for her in his mind.

"And that was a brilliant way to do it. They figured you wouldn't think anything of bringing your set to the headquarters." she finished.

"Precisely my speculation, miss Granger," Dumbledore turned to her, "that is why we must carefully dispose of them."

Harry was confused, "But…who would do that?" he asked, "Surely you guys haven't let a death eater into your house…have you?" he asked, turning to Mrs. Weasley.

She shook her head as Dumbledore said, "I have my suspicions, but I would like to confirm them before I let anybody know. Now, where _is_ that chess set?" he asked, looking expectantly at Mr. Weasley.

"We kept it up in the attic with the ghoul," he replied, "I'll just go and nip it," he continued, walking up the stairs.

"Well," Dumbledore said after Mr. Weasley had disappeared, "How about a nice cup of tea, Molly?" he asked.

"Oh yes, sounds wonderful," she said, then disappeared to the kitchen.

Hermione cleared her throat loudly, glaring at Ron.

He gave her a puzzled look, then his eyes widened, "Oh, yeah. Would you…I mean, have a…sit down?" he stuttered.

Hermione gave a pained expression, "_Ron_ald is just asking if you like a seat," she asked Dumbledore for him. Ron turned red.

"Oh yes, yes of course," he said, sitting on the sofa while the three friends took seats opposite of him. Dumbledore looked directly at Harry, and Harry suddenly felt put on the spot, "Are you doing well, Harry?" he softly asked.

He hesitated and looked down, "Yeah…doing just fine."

"Harry," Dumbledore quietly said, "The loss of Sirius has grieved us all…" he started.

Why did Dumbledore have to start talking about Sirius _now_? Harry felt anger coursing through his veins, "I don't want to talk about that," he muttered, trying to keep his temper under control.

"Harry, you can't bottle it all up inside," Hermione soothingly said.

"I said…"

"We know, we know mate," Ron fearfully said, "You don't want to talk about it. You don't have to."

"Ron, yes he does. If he bottles it up like that it's going to build up and explode at some point ("Harry's going to explode?" Ron asked) and it's not going to be very pretty."

"Hermione has a point," the professor quietly cut in, "Harry, you _do_ need to talk about it at some point. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon."

Harry didn't say anything. He didn't want to talk about Sirius. Harry was the one that had gotten him killed in the first place. He didn't feel worthy of even living.

"It's just that…" Harry began without intending to, "He wanted so bad to do something for…" he stopped as Mrs. Weasley came back in with the tea.

"Here you are, Albus," she said, handing him a cup, "Would you three like some as well?" she happily asked.

Ron and Hermione nodded while Harry muttered, "No thanks, Mrs. Weasley."

She sauntered back into the kitchen.

"What were you saying?" Hermione gently asked, touching his shoulder.

"It's just that he wanted so bad to do something for the Order, and when he finally got a chance to…" he cut off again as Mr. Weasley came down the stairs with the board and pieces.

_If those pieces are really bewitched, _Harry bitterly thought, _I'm not going to be the one to give away anything about the Order_.

"Ah, Arthur. Are all the pieces accounted for?" Dumbledore asked, standing.

"Yes sir," he replied, handing Dumbledore everything.

Dumbledore counted the pieces to double check, "I see. Well, I'll have Mad-eye take a look at these just to be sure."

"Brilliant," Mr. Weasley happily replied.

"Um, excuse me sir," Harry interrupted, looking at Dumbledore who turned to him, "But how did you come to realize the pieces were bewitched?" he asked.

"That, Harry, is a story for another time," Dumbledore patiently explained.

"Yes sir," Harry muttered, looking at the other two who seemed interested.

"Perhaps Ron can explain it to you when I have departed," Dumbledore continued.

"Oh, I don't know the story," Ron began.

Dumbledore looked at him over his half moon spectacles, "You will know in time."

He dissapperated and Ron gave Harry and Hermione, in turn, a confused look, "What's that supposed to mean? 'You will know in time,'?"

"I'm sure you'll find out soon enough," Hermione encouraged.

"_I_ think he's gone loony," Ron muttered so that Hermione couldn't hear.

"I don't think so, Ron," Harry objected, "Dumbledore always knows what he's talking about."

Ron shrugged, "Whatever."

That night, after Ron and Harry had gotten into bed, they talked about the chess set.

"Dyou reckon Dumbledore's right?" Ron asked.

Harry thought a moment, "Ron, when have you ever doubted Dumbledore?" he asked.

Silence.

"I mean, he always knows what he's doing and what's going on. I wouldn't doubt him. What _I_ want to know is…well…_who_ would do that. Who would have a chance to bewitch the pieces?"

Silence.

"Have you let anyone weird into your house, Ron?"

Silence.

"Ron?" Harry asked, propping himself up onto his elbows to better see Ron.

Harry laid back down and almost immediately fell asleep…

_Harry was circling the curtain again. _

_"What's in there?" he asked himself._

_"Wouldn't_ you _like to know?" came a cruel, cold voice._

_"Yes," Harry answered to no one in particular._

_A movement on the other side of the room caught his attention and a tall figure was walking toward him. His clothes were worn as if this man hadn't washed them in weeks._

_"Sirius?" Harry whispered, his heart beating quicker, "Are you…are you_ back?" _he asked._

_Sirius only smiled at him and did not say anything._

_"I can't believe…where…how…?" Harry left his sentence hanging._

_Suddenly Sirius face changed…_

Harry sat up and barely suppressed a scream.

"I _told_ you, Ron!" Ginny's voice complained, "Mum told us to get up! Now we're going to be late!"

Harry wanted to tell Ron as soon as he could.

"Ginny, get out," he quietly said.

"What?" both Ron and Ginny asked.

"I said get out," he said louder, looking at Ginny.

She looked taken aback and hurt, "Sorry, how was _I_ supposed to know you woke up on the…"

Ron was turning red in the face, "GINNY LEAVE NOW!" he yelled.

She stuck her tongue out at him and turned on her heal, slamming the door behind herself.

"What a…" Ron began, staring after her.

"Ron, listen," Harry hurriedly said, interrupting him, "I just had a dream…"

"Do you need more Occlumency?" Ron asked.

"No, but listen…" Harry explained to him what he had seen.

"You saw Sirius…_alive_?" he asked, "And then he turned into…into…"

Harry nodded, "Voldemort," he finished for him.

Ron shuddered, "Eerie," he muttered.

Harry and Ron quickly got dressed and ran down the stairs, meeting all the members of the Weasley family and Hermione, minus Percy, Fred and George.

"Alright, who wants to go first?" Mrs. Weasley asked as they gathered around the fireplace.

"_Floo_?" Harry asked Ron.

Ron only shrugged.

"Mrs. Weasley, aren't the floo networks being watched?" Hermione asked.

"Dumbledore gave his consent, I reckon it's alright," she said, examining the fire grate.

"I'll go first," Bill volunteered. He grabbed a handful of floo-powder from the flowerpot, stood in the fireplace and clearly said, "Number Twelve Grimauld Place, London!" He then disappeared behind tall, green flames.

Harry suddenly got an odd feeling, "I don't know about this, Ron," he muttered, "Did Dumbledore _really_…" he began, but Mrs. Weasley pushed him forward into the fire grate.

"Your turn, Harry dear," she said as he turned around, looking at Hermione. She only shrugged.

He grabbed a handful of floo powder and loudly said, "Number Twelve Grimauld Place, London!" and a warm sensation took over him as he threw the green powder down. He was spinning and spinning and he felt as if he would be sick to his stomach, but as soon as he felt it, his feet hit the ground and he fell, coughing from all the dust.

"Here," someone said, sticking his hand into the fire place, "Let me help you."

It was Charlie, smiling broadly and clapped Harry on the back when he stood up, "Harry! Nice to see you again!"

"Yeah, you too," he said, coughing again.

The kitchen was no longer dusty or musty, but brightly lit and looked as if somebody was actually living there.

"Wow," Harry murmured.

"I know, Remus and I fixed it up a bit," Charlie said, pridefully looking around the room.

Harry smiled, "Wow," he repeated, "This is great! What did…" he let his sentence trail off. He was going to ask, "What did Sirius think of it," but realized it was a useless question.

As if reading his mind Charlie said, "Sirius would have liked it. It doesn't feel so dank anymore."

"Yeah, sure," Harry muttered, now feeling worse than ever.

When Hermione and Ron came through the fireplace, the three of them went up to Buckbeak's room. It was definantly different from the last time Harry had been there. Now, instead of moth-eaten curtains and bed, there were several windows, a trough to put the ferrets in, no carpet but straw and dirt all over the floor. Buckbeak had made a nest with the straw and Harry was amazed at the change of the feeling of the house.

"Brilliant," Ron muttered, looking around the room.

Harry looked over at Hermione and found she was looking disgruntled.

"What is it, Hermione?" Harry asked.

"Did you notice the elf head in the hallway?" she asked.

Ron's expression turned to one of disgust, "Yeah, they haven't taken those filthy things down yet."

"No, there's one more up there."

Harry suddenly remembered when they had walked by the heads in the hallway that there actually _was_ one more.

"But, Hermione," he started, "Only a Black could have done that. Right? So…so if Sirius is…is, you know…gone, then how did it get up there?"

Hermione shrugged, looking frightened, "I think it's time we had a chat with Dumbledore."


	4. Chapter 4: Hey All

Hey all, sorry that I haven't updated recently, I've been buisy trying to add stuff to all of my fics. I probably won't be able to get online during spring break (March 13-17), so I'm just letting you know that there probably won't be any updates during that time. Thank you all so much for reviewing, I really appreciate it. Enjoy your break!


End file.
